Colourful musical of the past slips under Joburgers’ radar
Times are tough in Johannesburg. People living and working in the city centre were without electricity for the first half of September. The jury is still out on mayor Herman Mashaba, who is part corruption-busting service deliverer, part xenophobic anti-poor rhetorician.
We’re in that odd postwinter period when the first blush of spring has passed but the landscape is still bone-dry and dusty. Jozi’s skeleton is exposed and what we see isn’t pretty: litter, decrepit buildings, malls and waste.
Above and beyond all this, of course, there is the national malaise — a political, economic and moral crisis that affects and infects everything.
But perhaps there is something to be redeemed from our state of woe, precisely because it is shared by all compatriots. The traditional regional rivalries, the “don’t make your problems mine” attitudes are less convincing.
Political assassinations and the battle for the ANC in KwaZulu-Natal? Not just a local concern. Mine closures in the North West have a direct impact on Gauteng. The DA’s faltering coalition in Nelson Mandela Bay is tied to the party’s fate upcountry.
And the drought in the Western Cape is starting to mitigate the old north-south antagonism between Joburgers and Capetonians.
In the arts world, the Cape Town versus Johannesburg thing tends to result in some hackneyed dualities: l’art pour l’art aesthetics versus political engagement, ecological activism versus urban edginess, old money versus new money, avantgardism versus Afropolitanism. None of these generalisations can actually be sustained. But when it comes to theatre, there is one comparison that seems to be worryingly accurate.
Recently, Cape Town gave Johannesburg a great big gift. It’s a musical, a show that was made for Joburgers, by Joburgers and set in Joburg – and, in 1959, it took the city by storm. It was soon a nationwide hit, then an international sensation; then, somehow, it disappeared. Subsequent revivals flopped. Now, finally, it is back where it belongs.
I’m talking, of course, about King Kong: Legend of a Boxer. Cape Town’s Fugard Theatre secured the rights to bring it back to life, updated some of the songs and dialogue while remaining as faithful to the original as possible, put together a brilliant cast and creative team. They have made theatrical magic. The show sold out during its Cape Town run in July and August.
But what, thus far, have Joburgers done with this gift – a quintessential piece of Sophiatown in the 1950s, a seminal event in the history of South African arts and culture, a stage and sociopolitical phenomenon? The answer, if ticket sales are anything to go by, does not reflect well on the denizens of SA’s major city.
While people have visited the Andy Warhol exhibition at the Wits Art Museum in droves, the same cannot be said of King Kong. Is this some form of post-apartheid colonial cringe?
It is hard not to draw that conclusion.
King Kong is iconic. It’s a landmark to which anyone who knows anything about South African jazz or theatre history will refer.
And here it is – not a dusty exhibit from an archive or a nostalgic trip down memory lane, but a slick, sexy, violent, vibrant rendition. Surely, the auditorium should be packed?
The alternative explanation is, to put it bluntly, ignorance. Maybe not that many Joburgers know about King Kong. Maybe not that many care about Todd Matshikiza and Miriam Makeba and Hugh Masekela and Leon Gluckman and Kiepie Moeketsi.
This wouldn’t be surprising; we are devastatingly illinformed about our past. We are exactly like the quartet of posturing schoolboys who are brought down to size by Pop, the narrator who takes audiences back in time to learn about the rise and fall of Ezekiel “King Kong” Dlamini.
All the more reason, then, to go and see King Kong.
But this production is not simply a history lesson. It speaks to fame, crime, destructive masculinity, femicide; it affirms community, comedy, the joyful resistance of song and dance. It is from the past, but not of the past.
KING KONG IS NOT SIMPLY A HISTORY LESSON. IT SPEAKS TO CRIME, DESTRUCTIVE MASCULINITY, FEMICIDE
King Kong: Legend of a Boxer is at Joburg Theatre until October 8.